Lena was still reeling from the kiss.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt it the way Damien's hand had settled at her waist, the pressure of his lips, the way time had slowed as if the world had paused for them alone.
But what haunted her even more was what he'd said after: "You make that hard."
What exactly did she make hard? The boundaries? His control? His vow to stay emotionally detached?
She didn't know.
And it terrified her.
The Next Day – Blackwood Enterprises
Lena had been invited or rather, summoned to a company luncheon. Tessa warned her it was more about appearances than actual business. Damien would be there, and so would a dozen gossip-hungry executives' wives.
She wore a modest navy-blue dress, kept her smile polite, and deflected invasive questions like a seasoned pro.
"So how did you two meet?"
Lena smiled. "Fate."
"What does a billionaire see in someone like you?"
"I ask myself that every day."
"Is he… demanding? You know, in bed?"
Lena choked on her water.
She was still recovering when Damien entered the room.
He didn't look at her, but he moved to her side instinctively, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. His body was warm, his touch subtle yet grounding.
"Everything alright?" he murmured low enough that only she could hear.
Lena gave a tight smile. "Just another round of 'interrogate the trophy wife.'"
Damien's eyes darkened. "If anyone crosses a line, let me know."
She looked up at him, surprised. "You'd defend me again?"
He didn't blink. "Always."
That Night – The Penthouse
Damien was working late in his home office. Lena passed the door, intending to go to her room, but something stopped her.
A sound.
Not a voice. Not music.
A low, broken breath.
She pushed the door open, quietly.
Damien sat at his desk, his suit jacket off, tie undone, fingers pressed against his temples. On his screen was a photo grainy, old but unmistakable.
A young man. Damien's brother. Smiling.
Lena's breath caught.
Damien didn't notice her right away.
"Are you okay?" she asked gently.
He flinched, then quickly shut the laptop.
"You shouldn't be in here," he said, voice rawer than usual.
She took a few steps inside. "That's your brother?"
He hesitated. Then nodded once.
"His name was Julian," he said quietly. "He was the light. I was the shadow."
Lena sat across from him, heart tight. "What happened?"
Damien stared at his hands. "He died in a car crash. Five years ago. We had fought that morning. Stupid things. I told him he was reckless. He told me I was heartless."
A pause.
"He was right."
Lena reached out, fingers brushing his.
"You're not heartless," she said.
His eyes met hers. And for the first time, the ice in them cracked.
"You don't know me, Lena."
"Maybe not," she whispered. "But I see you. And I know pain when I see it."
They sat in silence.
Not as husband and wife. Not as strangers.
Just two broken people, pretending they weren't.